And Stubborn Love
by The Black Sun's Daughter
Summary: It's interesting to think about. Falling in love starts with "who the hell is this?" and yet somehow leads to "never let me go." Strange how that works, isn't it? Maybe not stranger than dæmons, flying swords, and a magic Library. Maybe.


Cassandra and Asten were separated. Not of their own will, but they were both still proud of it, to know that they were strong enough to stretch their bond the way so few people in the world could. They'd never needed to bee as close to each other as most people and their dæmons anyways, even as children. It was useful sometimes. Lonely sometimes, too. But no, not quite lonely. More like...the _impression_ of it. A space where someone _should_ be but wasn't, not necessarily where one of _them_ had to be.

It was a space that was starting to be filled, but not by a single someone. By two someones, technically four if she counted their dæmons.

Ezekiel couldn't cook. She'd found that out the hard way the first time he tried to make breakfast, giving the whole 'domesticity' thing a shot, and she'd lost her appetite for the rest of the day. Nobody had ever bothered to show him, or he was used to having somebody else doing the cooking. Probably both.

Jake could cook. He was very good at it. Apparently, when he was younger, after his mother died, he had become the domestic one of the Stone household, the one responsible for dinner. Ezekiel never asked him for help, and Jake never offered it, either. But if Ezekiel came to sit on the countertop and watch when Jake started making dinner, Zhu wrapped around his shoulders like a living stole, the historian never said a word about it, neither did Addy, lying placidly across his feet.

There were only two instances in which Jake swore. One was when he was fixing his truck, as it seemed to have some kind of magic effect on the rolling steel, one of those secret rites of masculinity. The other was when he came into the kitchen after Ezekiel and Zhu had finished their latest attempt at domesticity, and that was just because _Jones._ "Grown-ass man can't even make goddamn bacon," Jake muttered irritably as he scraped burnt, forgotten bacon onto a plate for Asten, who would eat anything bacon-based without hesitation or complaint, carbonized or not, much to Cassandra's chagrin.

She didn't answer, just smiled from where she was solving the New York Times crossword at the kitchen table. Asten knew not to laugh or he'd have his bacon privileges revoked, sitting patiently on the floor next to Jake's feet.

Asten saved the unburnt pieces of bacon for Addy. She and Jake were both grossed out, but kind of touched at the same time.

* * *

"What in the name of God did you _do?_ This shit could kill a goddamn _dragon,_ Jones."

* * *

Jake's pocket-Clippings Book sent him on a mission.

He came back with a new item for the Modern Artifacts wing.

Baird and Karys still didn't notice anything different about them.

Cassandra was torn between being worried about how good they were at lying and being proud they were managing to pull one over on their indomitable Guardian.

* * *

"I can't believe you actually convinced me to watch this crap," Jake muttered as he dropped down into the plush, over-stuffed sofa in front of the screen. The Library's theatre didn't have rows of individual seats like an actual theatre, rather it had comfy armchairs and sofas, not to mention large, squashy cushions on the floor for dæmons to lay on if they didn't like or fit on the furniture. Addy sniffed disdainfully even as she sorted herself a prime spot in the middle of one particular cushion, tucking her paws beneath her and kneading at the stuffing.

Cassandra rolled her eyes as she sat on the other end of the sofa, folding her legs so her bare feet were tucked under her thighs. "Oh, hush, Jake. You know you like movie night just as much as the rest of us," she replied. Asten slunk past her feet to press himself sinuously along Addy's flank, snuggling up close to the other dæmon; for as much as she tried to maintain her feline aloofness, Addy began to make an almost subvocal purr, subtly leaning into the genet.

"Yeah, when we're watching an actual _movie,_ not...whatever the hell this is," he answered with all the childish stubbornness of a three-legged mule, which Cassandra sometimes believed Addy should have settled as rather than a lynx.

"Scoot over a touch, would ya?" Ezekiel asked as he sauntered over to the sofa carrying a bucket of popcorn in one arm, an actual bucket like the ones served in public movie theatres. "I'd rather not sit within swatting distance of the cowboy, if you don't mind."

Cassandra rolled her eyes at his antics (children, the both of them) but moved down anyways so she sat in the middle, her shoulder nearly touching Jake's but not quite, close enough to feel his warmth.

"Thanks, love," Ezekiel said, then crawled horizontally across the sofa to lay across both their laps, half on Cassandra's and half on Jake's, only his feet touching the sofa itself.

"Jones," Jake growled under his breath, gaze flicking automatically towards the door.

"Relax, cowboy. Baird and Flynn are on a hot date several time zones away, and Jenkins is very determined to have the Modern Artifacts wing properly archived in his anal-retentive old-man way. We're in the clear," Ezekiel reassured with a dismissive wave of the hand as he made himself good and comfortable against the other man's lap, then held up the bucket. "Popcorn?"

Jake managed to keep up his half-hearted glare for another ten seconds before taking a handful of popcorn. "Smartass."

Zhu giggled as she sinuously twined herself around Addy and Asten, lying on the plush cushions on the floor in front of the sofa. Her vivid autumnal coat clashed sharply with the dappled silvery-grey-white-ash of the other two dæmons, but it was a pleasing contrast. "Better than a dumbass, though," she replied, then let out a squeaking yelp as Addy nipped her ear reprovingly.

"Boys, if you can't play nice, you can't sit together," Cassandra admonished, and they both stared at her until her calm face cracked into a smile, giggling brightly. "Start the movie already."

Ezekiel grinned and laid his head on the arm of the sofa as the opening credits started.

Cassandra could feel Jake almost humming with tension beside her, sitting stiff and rigid with unease, but inch by stubborn inch, the bullheaded man relaxed, the tightness easing out of his posture until he was entirely relaxed. One hand drifted down to rest across the arm of the sofa just above Ezekiel's head, fingertips lightly ruffling through his hair absentmindedly. The other arm had snuck up and around her shoulders of its own volition, drawing her in close so she was flush against his side; she laid her head against his shoulder, hair spilling down half his chest. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Ezekiel grinning smugly at the screen, snuggling back further into them just because he could.

Zhu sighed happily from the cushion on the floor as Addy rested her muzzle across the fox dæmon's shoulders; Asten curled up snug between them both, his long ringed tail curled around Zhu's much fluffier one. The warm smell of fur and Dust and love made her drowsy with contentment, and sooner than she would've thought, Cassandra felt her lashes getting heavier. Jake had started stroking her hair, and the repetitive motion was even more soporific than Asten's fuzzy sleepiness. She reached out to take the popcorn bucket and set it on the floor before Ezekiel dropped it (Jenkins _would_ make him clean it up) and let herself relax further into the pair of them.

She was asleep before Nero destroyed Planet Vulcan.

* * *

"The fuck—it's _toast_. How in the sweet hell do you fucking fuck up _toast?!"_

* * *

Her pocket-Clippings Book sent her on a mission.

She came back with a statue of Athena that belonged in the Greek Figures section.

Cassandra shot a very angry boar with a bow and arrow; only female warriors could defeat it.

Jake was so proud of her that he kissed her in the middle of the Library...when Baird and Karys weren't looking, of course.

* * *

Ezekiel liked chess. Cassandra was good at it, it was one of the only games her parents allowed her to play, as it was considered an 'intellectual' pastime. He hadn't known how to play at first, but after watching her play a game or two on her computer, he and Zhu "found" an actual chess set and challenged her to a real game. His strategy needed work, but he was good.

Jake didn't like chess. That surprised her, she thought it would've been right up his alley, but no. He played a mean game of Chinese checkers, though.

The first several weeks of their relationship had been awkward courtship, trying not to step on each other's toes whilst rearranging their boundaries with each other at the same time. After that, it'd become that temporary state of fervor, unable to stop themselves from stealing touches and kisses whenever they could, including one very memorable situation in a broom closet down in the Mediterranean section (a story for another time). It was one of the few times Cassandra was glad that she could separate from Asten, so he could go play watch-dæmon whilst they were otherwise indisposed.

Now, though, now they had settled into a not-quite-but-almost routine, a comfortable peace. Cassandra and Ezekiel might play chess, their dæmons watching from the sidelines, whilst Jake stretched out on the sofa and worked on a new paper or academic criticism, scribbling away in an old beat-up notebook as Addy corrected his grammar, peering over one shoulder. After two or three games, Ezekiel would get bored and throw himself on Jake with playful demands to be entertained, and Jake would shove him off onto the floor. Addy would chase Zhu 'round and 'round the sofa, the latter cackling all the while even as the former hissed angrily at being disturbed. Cassandra would soothe Jake's temper and coddle Ezekiel's bruised ego with Asten lithely inserting himself between Addy and Zhu, purring in that odd way genets sometimes did. _That_ usually led to more intimate touching, and they'd end up in the bedroom to take up where the left off in the broom closet.

It was kind of funny, seeing Jake wear a scarf in summer because he was so _not_ about to explain to Baird where the hickeys on his neck came from or why they looked like they were made by two different mouths (because they were).

They made an agreement after that—no love-bites above the collar. But anywhere else was just fine.

* * *

"The goddamn coffeemaker?! _The goddamn coffeemaker!"  
_

* * *

Ezekiel's pocket-Clippings Book sent him on a mission.

He—

He—

Oh, God.

* * *

"You stupid, stubborn, goddamn human fucking _disaster_ _—!"_ Jake was bellowing at the top of his lungs, and he had a very good voice for it, which was how Cassandra and Asten knew that Ezekiel was still alive. Six days _after_ he said that he'd be back, with absolutely zero radio contact, and having to be half-carried through the Back Door by an extraordinarily pissed-off Baird and a worried Flynn, but still alive.

Karys was carrying Zhu on his broad back, and she was holding very still, the way she did whenever she didn't want to give away an injury that Ezekiel was hiding from them. Her lovely autumn fur was matted in damp, knotted clumps, as if another, larger dæmon had taken her in its mouth and _sh_ _aken_ her viciously.

"Sorry, mate," Ezekiel mumbled, looking more exhausted than she had ever seen him, most of his weight leaning into Baird's shoulder, his clothes torn and dirty, and with suspicious damp, dark stains on them that had the familiar copper smell of blood to them.

So, for once, Cassandra absolutely did not blame Jake for swearing.

She went to Ezekiel's side and helped Baird half-drag, half-carry him towards Jenkins' lab whilst Flynn ran off, shouting for the Caretaker. "Ezekiel, what were you _thinking?"_ she murmured softly as he was trying to act like he wasn't about to faint. He sucked at it. Cassandra was almost certain that she was going to be the one yelling at him soon.

They got him to Jenkins's lab, and the Caretaker shooed them all out, locking the door quite pointedly once he and Menerva forcibly pushed them out into the corridor. Baird strode off, presumably to go punch something, Karys growling with well-meant worry after her; Flynn went to put away the artifact that Ezekiel had almost killed himself to get, Loquis curled around his throat like a furry scarf, oddly pragmatic in their own way. That left Cassandra and Jake standing outside the door in the hallway. She had both arms wrapped around Asten, hugging him to her chest, glad he was small enough for her to hold.

"I'll fucking _kill_ him!" Jake fumed, eyes livid.

"He could've _died,"_ Addy murmured, eyes miserable.

Ezekiel had four cracked ribs, half a concussion, a semi-serious fever, and a mild cold. He needed about two weeks' worth of rest and enough water to drown a selkie. Jenkins wanted to keep him on bedrest for observation, spell-rigged traps were very tricky, but he and Menerva both knew they didn't have the smallest scrap of a chance of actually getting him to stay in bed, much less in the Annex. Why should they? Werewolf bites and gas poisoning couldn't even bench the thief, so why would a couple broken ribs and a busted head stop him?

Cassandra wanted to _know._ Seriously. Asten, too.

They also wanted to know how it was somebody could only have 'half' of a concussion, but she supposed they ought to wait until Ezekiel was recovered enough to be yelled at properly before asking him.

"I'm fine," he protested even as he winced, poking at his wrapped ribs. Zhu was draped across the foot of the bed, looking somewhat less bedraggled but no less exhausted.

"There is a difference between 'fine' and 'surviving,' Ezekiel Jones," Cassandra protested. "You are _aware_ of that, right?" She wanted to hug him, to kiss every little scrape on his face, but Jenkins was standing right there and Menerva was watching the youngest Librarian with an eerily fixed glare.

He so obviously was _not._

"I'm _fine."_

"The fuck you are," Jake snarled. Addy padded over, seized Zhu by the scruff of her neck, and started dragging her out of the room towards the Back Door.

"Wh—cowboy— _oi!"_

Cassandra probably shouldn't be enjoying this, right?

* * *

She was enjoying this so much.

"Stupid fucker can't even cook a fucking piece of toast or keep a goddamn phone on in Chinese spell-trap ruins," Jake muttered and growled as he clattered violently around in his apartment's kitchen. Ezekiel was on his couch, Cassandra in his armchair. Addy was lying almost on top of Zhu, the smaller dæmon pinned under thick, well-furred paws, and she would snarl and hiss whenever Zhu or Ezekiel even tried to get up. Asten, sitting beside the lynx, had taken to growling too, just to back her up.

"How you can be this fucking _stupid,_ I swear to _Christ._ " Jake slammed a cupboard shut with a redolent bang. "If you die on us, Jones, I'll follow you to the other fucking side, bring your dumbass back, and kill you my goddamned _self,_ you _idiot..."_

Ezekiel pressed both hands to the sofa cushions, leaning forward as if about to stand. Jake and Addy brought their heads around to snarl at him in unison; the thief immediately sank back down. "What? I was just gonna make lunch! I can still do _that,_ mate."

"No, you will fucking _not!"_ Jake pointed at him with a ladle like it was a weapon. "I'm making soup, and you are going to eat it. You eat your _own_ goddamned cooking right about now, and you'll probably fucking _die."_

"He's right, you would," Cassandra agreed mildly, still basking in the joy that both her boys were alive and acting like themselves. And in the fact that she was no longer alone in having to bully a grown man into acting like an adult and taking care of himself. It was probably the best thing that'd happened to her all month. Not including the incident in the Amazon Room, because that was an entirely different ballpark.

"Get him the, the blanket, that sunrise one you like," the historian ordered, brandishing his ladle in Cassandra's direction. "Before he catches goddamn pneumonia."

The sunrise quilt was _Jake's_ favourite. His mother had given it to him not long before she died, and it always smelled like him, too. Cassandra traded a glance with Asten and smirked, then stood up and went to the bedroom to take the quilt off the end of the bed where it was folded, grabbing a pillow off the bed for good measure.

Jake getting all worked up was kind of cute.

* * *

"Six days," Jake murmured in a soft, broken voice later, when it was dark and Ezekiel was snoring softly, curled up in a snug ball in the middle of the bed, Zhu snuggled in his arms, cocooned in the thick quilt.

Cassandra pressed her lips to his temple, molding the front of her body against his back. Asten washed Addy's ears with a long, gentle tongue. He said a lot more when they were like this, as if the darkness made him more honest. "I know," she replied just as softly, her breath ruffling his hair. "It's okay. We've still got him."

He let out a heavy shuddering breath and pressed back closer against her. They fit together nicely this way, and she knew that he would never admit it, but he liked being held like this. "I'm gonna kick his ass when he's better."

She smiled against the back of his neck. "I know."

* * *

"I was just gonna make breakfast, I can—"

"Get _out_ of my fucking kitchen, I'll do it my damned self."

* * *

"No bacon today?"

"What, you like burned bacon that much?"

 _"Yes."_

* * *

"You are so bloody weird, cowboy. You too, witchy."

"We love you, too."

"Smartass."

* * *

Jake Stone—Adrasteia, called "Addy," Siberian lynx  
Cassandra Cillian—Asten, common genet  
Ezekiel Jones—Zhu, red fox  
Eve Baird—Karys, Siberian husky/grey wolf mix  
Flynn Carsen—Loquis, American river otter  
Jenkins—Menerva, snowy owl.


End file.
